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They put you in checkmate in hell
The floor beneath your penitent feet
Seems to smirk and whisper
Too late, too late!
You played your games
Feeling immortal as only
Foolish mortals might
And when no fires greeted you
For moment thought
You’d won the game
Beaten the odds
A god of your own making indeed

But strategies are hidden
In these desolate deceiving realms
You are coaxed into contentment
As each deadly piece advances
Across the checkered floor
You must always pay the Piper
Not a soul may be immune
And you will be as broken as the kingdom
You sought to grasp
On mother earth
As you plunge
Finally knowing
Into the grinning mawl
Of the silvery abyss

(c) Helen Valentina 2016